lied the Shaggy Man.
"You have annoyed travelers on this road long enough, and now I shall
put an end to you."

"You can't!" returned Chiss. "Nothing can kill me, as you know
perfectly well."

"Perhaps that is true," said the Shaggy Man in a tone of
disappointment. "Seems to me I've been told before that you can't be
killed. But if I let you go, what will you do?"

"Pick up my quills again," said Chiss in a sulky voice.

"And then shoot them at more travelers? No; that won't do. You must
promise me to stop throwing quills at people."

"I won't promise anything of the sort," declared Chiss.

"Why not?"

"Because it is my nature to throw quills, and every animal must do what
Nature intends it to do. It isn't fair for you to blame me. If it were
wrong for me to throw quills, then I wouldn't be made with quills to
throw. The proper thing for you to do is to keep out of my way."

"Why, there's some sense in that argument," admitted the Shaggy Man,
thoughtfully; "but people who are strangers, and don't know you are
here, won't be able to keep out of your way."

"Tell you what," said Scraps, who was trying to pull the quills out of
her own body, "let's gather up all the quills and take them away with
us; then old Chiss won't have any left to throw at people."

"Ah, that's a clever idea. You and Ojo must gather up the quills while
I hold Chiss a prisoner; for, if I let him go, he will get some of his
quills and be able to throw them again."

So Scraps and Ojo picked up all the quills and tied them in a bundle so
they might easily be carried. After this the Shaggy Man released Chiss
and let him go, knowing that he was harmless to injure anyone.

"It's the meanest trick I ever heard of," muttered the porcupine
gloomily. "How would you like it, Shaggy Man, if I took all your shags
away from you?"

"If I threw my shags and hurt people, you would be welcome to capture
them," was the reply.

Then they walked on and left Chiss standing in the road sullen and
disconsolate. The Shaggy Man limped as he walked, for his wound still
hurt him, and Scraps was much annoyed because the quills had left a
number of small holes in her patches.

When they came to a flat stone by the roadside the Shaggy Man sat down
to rest, and then Ojo opened his basket and took out the bundle of
charms the Crooked Magician had given him.

"I am Ojo the Unlucky," he said, "or we would never have met that
dreadful porcupine. But I will see if I